


Rebellion By Chance

by Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Forbidden Love, Human Daft Punk, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 05:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11246979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real/pseuds/Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real
Summary: Two friends doing everything they can to remain close despite their parents’ seemingly unending hatred for each other. Of course, if you spend so much time and effort on another person it’s not strange if things get… intense.





	Rebellion By Chance

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in September 1992. The first real text message wasn’t sent until December 1992. Can I hear you say *Alternate* Universe?
> 
> Also, I feel really bad for vilifying their parents like this - I’m 100% sure they’re actually wonderful people IRL. But, I needed conflict, so here we are.

Thomas still remembered the first time he truly met Guy-Man. It was right before the last class of the day started, a few weeks after he’d transferred to Lycée Carnot. Thomas had by chance overheard Guy-Man and another student talk about a film, he couldn’t recall which one, which premiered a while ago, and decided to jump into the conversation. The third student left as the class was about to start, but Thomas and Guy-Man kept speaking until the teacher told them off. The discussion continued after school, as they accompanied each other to the Metro. That was the beginning. Sure, they’d seen each other before that, even spoken once or twice, but Thomas would always count that as their first meeting.

They hung out somewhat regularly following that, mostly when on their way home. It quickly became clear they shared a taste in movies, music, a lot of things actually, and Thomas soon considered Guy-Man a good friend, an opinion he was sure was mutual. Perhaps simply “good friends” was all they would have been if _that_ had never happened.

It was at a school event where parents were to attend, a few months after their first meeting. Thomas had resolved to make his parents meet all of his new friends, having pulled them by the wrist from family to family. They were amused by his persistence, and probably even more by how he only allowed them to introduce themselves before hauling them away. And then they came upon the De Homem-Christos. His father’s face darkened; his mother’s filled with horror. All four adults, no one uttering a single word, exchanged looks of disgust. Then Thomas’ father seized him by the shoulder and dragged him off the school premises, his mother in tow. In the car, they’d made him swear to never associate with anyone from that family ever again.

The next day he’d walked up to Guy-Man to inform him of his promise to his parents, finding out that Guy-Man vowed a similar thing. Neither of them knew the reason, although later Thomas would piece together that his father knew Guy-Man’s parents a long time ago, and that his mother’s hatred for them was a result of their marriage. The exact cause, however, remained a mystery to him. Following that initial disobedience, Thomas was committed to keeping his promise, even though he often found himself missing someone to speak with. Talking to his other friends at school just wasn’t as fun as talking to Guy-Man had been. Nevertheless, a promise was a promise, and he avoided Guy-Man as much as he could.

Then, weeks later, they’d coincidentally bumped into each other again. Thomas and a friend had agreed to meet at the movie theater, only for the friend to bail at the last minute. Unwilling to miss out, Thomas elected to see it on his own. While in the line, with no more than two people in front of him, he had, by chance, glanced over his shoulder and seen Guy-Man farther towards the back. Time stood still as they momentarily locked eyes, a flood of loss washing over Thomas. Guy-Man raised an insecure hand, cautiously waving as if their parents would come down on them the instant they interacted with each other. Later, Thomas theorized that small sign was all he’d waited for, because one second after that wave he made up his mind, leaving his spot in the queue to join Guy-Man instead.

“Do you think it’ll be good?” he’d asked, referring to the film.

Guy-Man shrugged in response. “I think it’s as likely to be amazing as terrible.”

In the end, it turned out to be somewhere in between. Neither of them disliked it, though, and while discussing the experience at a nearby pizzeria afterwards they decided that the corny yet awesome flick had been worth the money.

From then on, they became more or less inseparate at school. It was as if the time they’d spent apart only made them so much more aware of how much they enjoyed the other’s company. The fact that they were strictly forbidden helped as well - there definitely was a certain thrill in doing something prohibited. Not that it was that bad. They just talked, watched movies, and ate junk food in between. The worst thing either of them ever did was half-lie when their parents asked them where and with whom they were going. Honestly, the whole thing felt so natural, so right, that they never bothered being very secretive about it, frequently hanging out both alone and with their other friends in public.

That, they soon realized, was a mistake.

More than a year had passed since their first meeting: they and a few others had been out late in the evening, stopping to chat outside a burger place, when a car screeched to a halt next to them. Thomas’ furious mother rushed out, demanding to know what he was doing. He was baffled at first. He’d told her he was going out with friends, which she’d permitted him to do. It wasn’t until he tracked her gaze, which was burning a hole into an increasingly uncomfortable-looking Guy-Man, that he remembered his promise from a year back.

He tried making excuses ( _“We ran into each other here, we didn’t plan to meet!”_ ), but to no avail. She grabbed hold of his arm and forced him into the car, to the bewilderment as well as amusement of his friends. He was grounded for a month after that, in addition to being even more forbidden to be near Guy-Man.

They laughed together about that particular part the subsequent school day. After all, the only thing the Bangalters had done was make it clear they would have to be sneakier from then on. It was something of a challenge, especially since Thomas’ mom apparently had the audacity to call Guy-Man’s parents and chewed them out for “not keeping track of their son”, which was as hilariously hypocritical as it was embarrassing.

They could no longer be seen together in public - not after one of Thomas’ acquaintances revealed his father attempted to bribe her into telling on him whenever he met Guy-Man. They also couldn’t keep their contact information in their cell phones, in case their parents would want to inspect them. Furthermore, they couldn’t save any texts they sent, for that same reason. Thomas solved that problem by writing down the most important ones in a notebook before deleting them, then hiding the notebook in one of his desk drawers, and making sure to always have the key to the desk drawer on him. If, in one way or another, his parents would still find it there, he was pretty certain he’d be the one who’d be locked up - for life, in all likelihood. Actually seeing each other in person after school became almost impossible, even after Thomas’ punishment ended. Rules became firmer, curfews became stricter, etc. etc. Their parents were probably convinced this would deter them, but in truth, the complete opposite happened.

Now, how their next meeting would occur was always on their mind. Hearing the shortest sentence from the other became a victory. The longer they stayed separated, the more determined they’d be to catch up. The knowledge that they weren’t supposed to made the instances when they did so much sweeter. And the prospect of them being pulled apart for good was nothing short of nightmarish.

There was one time, after nearly two years of successfully keeping their friendship a secret, when Thomas found out that Guy-Man was going to be pulled from their school, and his heart just about stopped. Hurrying to their meeting place, he’d hurled out the question.

“Have your parents found out?!” he asked, barely able to breathe as he waited for the answer.

Guy-Man had been perplexed at first, before rolling his eyes and snorting out a laugh.

“No. It’s because my grades have dropped. I’ll be transferring somewhere else, but I don’t know where to yet.”

Thomas sighed in relief. It still wasn’t the best news, since school was the place they saw each other the most, but it was something.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Guy-Man smiled, throwing his arm around Thomas’ shoulders. For a fleeting second, Thomas’ heart stopped for real.

“I’ll miss you too.”

And Thomas did miss him - he missed him so much it _hurt_. He started to neglect both his other friends as well as his schoolwork, so much so that the teacher contacted his parents about it, at which point he picked himself up not to seem suspicious. Even so, a lot of his time in class was spent staring out the window, wondering if Guy-Man thought about him as often as he thought about Guy-Man.

Their next meeting was initiated with the greatest hug Thomas had ever given to anyone. It made Guy-Man let out a pained groan, together with complaints about being crushed to death, as Thomas more or less lifted him off the ground, scarcely managing to prevent himself from spinning around as well.

“I told you I would miss you,” he said after letting go.

“I know.” Guy-Man rubbed his bottom rib with a grimace. “I just didn’t think you’d be this violent about it.”

“Sorry…”

Thomas chuckled nervously, face heating up. Guy-Man scoffed, then pulled him into a second, gentler embrace. Thomas buried his face in Guy-Man’s hair, relishing the softness of it.

“It’s alright. I know the feeling. To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll be able to tear myself from you later,” Guy-Man said right before pulling away.

Thomas laughed, tongue drying up in his mouth and his palms turning clammy. They went on, those words still echoing inside his head. The air around them seemed to have become colder after the hug ended. Quietly, Thomas wondered if Guy-Man had felt how fast Thomas’ heart was beating.

That had been over two years ago now. Since then they’d met countless of times, watched countless of films, listened to countless of records, learned countless of songs on Guy-Man’s guitar, and exchanged countless of hugs. Thomas’ heart still raced as fast during each one.

Sighing, he leaned back on his bed, thumb flying across the buttons on his phone.

_They want me to attend a university in the United States_

It took Guy-Man less than a minute to reply. Thomas brought the phone closer, the dark room forcing him to squint at the screen.

_just A uni? they haven’t decided which yet?_

_Not as far as I know. But knowing them, probably Ivy League_

_knowing you it could only be ivy league_

A smile spread across Thomas’ face. He rolled over onto his stomach, stretching himself so his hand would be closer to the moonlight that welled in through the window.

_they can’t force you to go if you don’t want to right?_

_No but they’ll put all their efforts into persuading me_

_maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. be better than staying here_

_I don’t think I could stand being away from Paris_

_Or you_ , Thomas mentally added as he hit send. He laid down his head on the bed, letting the arm holding the phone hang over the edge. The light spilling in from under his door briefly disappeared, the sound of steps replacing it. Thomas swiftly stuck the phone beneath his pillow, to muffle the sound in case it suddenly buzzed. He doubted it could be heard outside his room, or that his parents would think twice about if it did, but he still didn’t want to risk either of them coming in and potentially asking who he’s texting in the middle of the night. Fortunately, it wasn’t until the light reappeared and the steps fell silent that the next text arrived.

_but wouldn’t it be great? you’d go to harvard or yale or whatever and study film and become a world famous movie director. you’d be so famous you could do anything without anyone telling you no. you’d have tons of hot women throwing themselves at you. you’d travel all over the world to shoot films. and you could hire me as your assistant or some other shit so we could travel together_

Thomas read the rambling message at least twice, rubbing his eyes between rounds. Chuckling quietly so as to not alert his parents, he composed his reply.

_Are you drunk?_

_no_

_You need to stop texting me weird stuff so late at night. Also you’d be an awful assistant_

_probably. look out your window_

Thomas frowned at the text, but nonetheless did as it said. The yard was about as dim as his bedroom. It wasn’t until he opened the window and leaned out that he caught sight of Guy-Man in the middle of the garden, waving. Thomas jaw dropped open. He’d been standing frozen in place, simply staring, for what was probably several minutes when his phone buzzed unexpectedly, making him flinch.

_well come on out you blockhead!_

Hastily shutting the window, Thomas threw on the first items of clothing he found and slunk out of his bedroom. Tiptoeing down the stairs in order not to wake his parents, he managed to get outside without hearing anyone stir.

The September night was cool, but not chilly; his long sleeved button-up would probably be enough to keep him warm. He hurried to the spot where Guy-Man had been, head darting back and forth as he searched the garden. Finally locating his friend beneath a tree, Thomas grabbed him by the collar and hauled him over to the bushes by the house wall.

“ _What are you doing?!_ ” he bit out from between clenched teeth after they’d hidden from view.

Guy-Man rolled his eyes while adjusting his shirt. “Relax, no one saw me get in.”

“If my parents knew, they’d have you arrested!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Guy-Man hunched over a little, leaning in so their faces were less than ten centimeters apart. “It’s been a while. I’ve missed you.”

Thomas felt the flush sweep past his face. He averted his eyes, stuttering out an incoherently muted reply. Guy-Man smiled, which turned into a snicker when his gaze fell on Thomas shirt.

“I was just kidding when I said I’d be your assistant, but you might actually need one,” he said, tugging at the hem of the garment.

Frowning, Thomas looked down and discovered he’d buttoned the thing wrong. His blush intensified slightly, and then increased a bit more when Guy-Man reached over and undid the last few buttons to correct the mistake.

“W-Well, normally I don’t have to dress as fast as I can in the middle of the night just because my idiot friend decided to show up without warning!” Thomas mumbled, holding his breath as he felt Guy-Man’s fingers graze his abdomen through the fabric.

Guy-Man shrugged, smile still plastered onto his face. Straightening up, he moved so he sat alongside Thomas and rested his head on his shoulder. Thomas cleared his throat, a fluttering sensation in his stomach.

“So, d-did you want to talk?”

“Not really. Can’t we just sit like this?”

Thomas nodded, following Guy-Man’s example by looking up at the sky. It was almost entirely cloudless, the moon and the stars hanging unobscured above them. Guy-Man’s body seemed to radiate heat, a stark contrast to the steadily more biting night wind. Gently inhaling, Thomas drew in Guy-Man’s scent. He smelled faintly of cigarettes mixed with oak and vetiver, a sweeter hint floating amongst it all. Thomas shifted awkwardly. The fluttering was spreading, gradually transforming into something warmer and deeper.

“Let’s run away together.”

“Huh?”

Thomas head snapped towards Guy-Man, who was still watching the sky. He glanced up at Thomas.

“Let’s run away. Go wherever we want.”

“We can’t do that!”

“Sure we can.” Sitting up, Guy-Man gestured to the house. “Even after you move out, they won’t accept us seeing each other. They can’t stop us, but they’ll also never stop giving us hell for it. So let’s go somewhere they won’t be able to constantly hound us about it at least.”

Thomas opened his mouth, then closed it again, biting down on his lip. His eyes flicked over to the part of the house where his parents were soundly sleeping. Guy-Man had a point. There wasn’t a finishing line they needed to cross in order to be friends. His mother and father would never approve of Guy-Man no matter what he did, and neither would his parents approve of Thomas. If their families had spent close to 20 years loathing each other, nothing they’d do could ever change their minds.

“How exactly would we do this?” he asked, excitement slowly filling him up.

Guy-Man grinned, eyes twinkling roguishly.

“We’d gather all the money we can, pack the most necessary things, and just… leave. Live on our own, however we want to.”

“We could get jobs as musicians at a restaurant, or at a club, or anything,” Thomas said, tone pensive. He let out a soft laugh. “We don’t even have to stay in France!”

“Exactly.”

“When should we do it?”

“When you’ve finished school.”

Thomas produced a weak groan, pouting.

“Can’t we do it now?”

“No.” Guy-Man fastened a stern gaze on him. “After you’ve graduated. You’re too good not to. Also, we have to wait until you’ve turned 18.”

Thomas sighed, but didn’t argue. Guy-Man was right, after all. Him suddenly leaving would make his parents both angry and sad. If he vanished before even becoming an adult, they’d be livid and terrified.

“So, early summer next year,” he said, to which Guy-Man nodded.

Silence fell upon them once again. Bit by bit, the sky changed color from black to dark blue, and far off in the distance the birds began singing to the incoming dawn. Thomas carefully peered over at Guy-Man.

“Are you really serious about this?” he asked.

“Of course.” Guy-Man raised an amused brow. “Why?”

“Well…” Thomas looked at the ground, to his hand, which was restlessly picking at the grass. The fluttering had returned, like a prickling that zoomed from his legs all the way up to his head. “Two guys traveling around together, living together… It’d seem a bit…”

He trailed off, shrugging one shoulder. Sensing something hot against his face, he looked up. Guy-Man had moved closer, so close their noses nearly touched, so close they could taste each other’s breath.

“What?” he whispered, the pupils of his wonderfully blue eyes dilating.

“Well, you know…” Thomas said, right as Guy-Man caught the words in his mouth.

It was soft, and slow, and warm. Gently moving against each other smoothly, rhythmically. A wetness against his lower lip, making him intuitively part them. Then, the taste of something bitter yet sweet, powerful and intoxicating. A haze entering his head, his hands flew up, cupping Guy-Man’s face, raking the fingers through his hair. Grasping his lapels, Guy-Man pulled Thomas with him as he sunk down onto his back. Thomas followed without hesitation, pinning Guy-Man beneath him. The gentleness was gone, replaced by a ravenous intensity. Their tongues danced, fervently rubbing against one another. Fire pulsated through his veins, converging in his center as a hard throbbing. He ground their hips together, feeling a firm bulge against his thigh. Pulling away, he buried his face both in Guy-Man’s hair as well as the tall grass, hoping to stifle the sound that was threatening to escape. Wrapping his arms tighter around him, Guy-Man ran his tongue along Thomas’ throat before lightly biting into his ear lobe. Unable to keep it in any longer, Thomas released a throaty groan into the ground.

If his parents could see him now…

As if summoned, the sound of footsteps hit them like a cascade of cold water. Flying up with a gasp, they scooted farther into the bushes, as far as they could before hitting the wall, and spied out at the garden, silently catching their breaths.

Seconds passed. The steps continued, then disappeared down the street.

“I think it was by the road,” Thomas whispered.

Guy-Man nodded, clasping a hand over his mouth as a shaky laughter began pouring out. Thomas dusted the leaves off them as his friend calmed down, his hands visibly trembling.

“Maybe, maybe you should get away from here,” he said, glancing at the reddening sky.

Guy-Man nodded again. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Thomas accompanied him to the gates, constantly eyeballing the house, but luckily never detecting any movement. They stopped on the pavement right outside the entrance, awkwardly shifting weight from one foot to the other and wringing their wrists.

Guy-Man coughed.

“Right, we’ll… call whenever we can, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Thomas said, too quickly and too eagerly.

Flashing a combination of a self-conscious and a genuinely joyful smile, Guy-Man began making his way down the street. Thomas watched him until he reached the corner, where he momentarily halted to raise his hand for a quick wave before disappearing. Drawing in a long breath of fresh morning air, Thomas too turned and walked back to the house.

Inside, everything was still quiet. Thomas skulked up the stairs, head spinning and legs feeling like jelly. That just happened. It really did! It wasn’t a dream! It. Really. Happened.

He stopped by his bedroom door. He didn’t exactly feel like sleeping. Outside, the excitement evaporated the instant he thought they’d get caught. But now, as the panic had abated, it was ever so slowly returning. And he’d have to do something about it.

Deciding he was too awake to sleep anyway, he promptly went into the bathroom, stripped, down, and jumped into the shower. He got perhaps ten wonderful minutes for himself, sorting out his thoughts as well as celebrating some more as the water surged around him. Then, his mother opened the door, completely baffled by him being awake and showering at 7 o'clock a Saturday morning. _(“And in ice cold water? What’s the matter with you?!”_ )


End file.
